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Nine

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Below is the poem entitled Nine which was written by poet S. A. David. Please feel free to comment on this poem. However, please remember, PoetrySoup is a place of encouragement and growth.

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Nine

A thermometer,
Closest to the light,
Always in a hurry,
Running round the 
bulb in
eighty eight;
Having no egg,
Knowing no mercy;
Melting at her 
presence

A love,
After the thermal 
meter,
Perhaps, in a hurry,
Jogging round the 
queen in
two hundred and 
twenty five;
Absence of the 
eggs,
No mercy;
Melting at her 
voice.

A living one,
Third of their 
mama,
Taking things easy,
Dancing in
a year;
A cold egg.
Merciful but torn.

Dead among the 
living,
With some life 
trace,
Filled with dust,
Dancing in
six hundred and 
eighty seven;
Two eggs.

Mighty Roman god,
Alienated from the 
hot snow,
Worse than the 
millipede,
Creeping in
Four thousand and 
three hundred,
and thirty.

Ringed thrice.
Adorned.
Worse than the 
snail,
Moving in ten 
thousand and
eight hundred
Twenty two eggs
No trespass.

Large body,
Worse than the 
adorned,
Moving in thirty 
thousand
and seven hundred
Five eggs
Against the time.

Very far
From the big star
Worse than the 
large body
Leaping in sixty 
thousand and
two hundred
Just two eggs.

Humble, decent
Last standing
Ashamed
Going in ninety 
thousand and
seven hundred
Complications, not 
even a yoke.

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  1. Date: 9/18/2012 2:35:00 PM
    Interesting work..Sara